The body may be one of the last places where what is mine has not yet become what is mined.

Across performance, photography, sculpture, video, and spoken word, I follow that slippage through ordinary rituals: idleness instead of output, presence instead of productivity. Walking becomes a way to push against direction, not just drift from it. The cloud above and the cloud that stores us become the same sky. Grief becomes an object with weight. &, the body, marked and ritualized, refuses to perform on the network's terms.